Unveiling Hidden Journeys: The Unexpected Truths in Sravani Singampalli’s “On My Way Home”
On the way home, the world often slices itself into unexpected vignettes — a drunken man squandering not just his dignity but his daughter’s future, while a humble cat tenderly tends to her newborns just a stone’s throw away. Ever wonder how a single moment can jolt you into the deepest reflections? That clash — despair and hope side-by-side — hits harder when the fallen figure is your own father. It’s as if life scribbles a cruel irony across your path, making you question: can love really grow strong roots among such broken soil? This raw, tear-streaked tableau captures the silent poetry of fractured families and flickering dreams, and reminds us all how delicate the line is between what we wish for and what we endure.
On my way home
As I walk towards my house
I behold an alcoholic
Drinking his daughter’s future
And somewhere at a corner
A cat taking care of its
Newborn kittens.
I start contemplating as usual
As I move ahead
I see a happy family
A responsible father, a caring mother
And a fortunate daughter.
I wish I had such a great family.
It would have been possible
If the drunkard whom I saw
Just few minutes back
Was not my father.
